He said nothing to
anybody, but he took the few florins he had saved up, bade his
master farewell, and went on his way begging,--a little
fourteenth century boy, with long, straight hair, and a girdled
tunic, as you see them," continued the priest, "in the miniatures
in the black-letter missal that lies upon my desk. No doubt
heaven favoured him very strongly, and the saints watched over
him; still, without the boldness of his own courage, and the
faith in his own heart, they would not have done so. I suppose,
too, that when knights in their armour, and soldiers in their
camps, saw such a little fellow all alone, they helped him, and
perhaps struck some blows for him, and so sped him on his way,
and protected him from robbers and from wild beasts. Still, be
sure that the real shield and the real reward that served
Findelkind of Arlberg was the pure and noble purpose that armed
him night and day. Now, history does not tell us where Findelkind
went, nor how be fared, nor how long he was about it; but history
does tell us that the little barefooted, long-haired boy,
knocking so loudly at castle gates and city walls in the name of
Christ and Christ's poor brethren, did so well succeed in his
quest that before long he had returned to his mountain home with
means to have a church and a rude dwelling built, where he lived
with six other brave and charitable souls, dedicating themselves
to St.
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